A Year in the Life of a Home-Schooling Family: Day 52

Today is a short post, on account of the fact that the little ones are currently at a friends house; the older ones are at the park studying; Gary is dusting and I am writing a guest post for iHN. I will be returning to Gary and his duster…

I’ll do a quick precis of the morning. The littles did their work books:

Charlotte, her Latin:

And Lillie went to work whilst Thomas left for college.

Meanwhile, I finished my guest post and made asked Gary nicely to proof read my post:

The little ones were off for a play date after lunch, so the rush was on to educate them sufficiently before they left. First was a bit of astronomy. The girls wrote some notes about Saturn:

And completed a cross word puzzle:

We then did some more work on Hammurabi. The girls picked one of their home-made rules and wrote them in cuneiform on their own slab of clay to make ‘Abigail’s Stele’ and ‘Becca’s Stele’:

At that point we ran out of time.

Gary made some lunch as I was just putting the finishing touches to my guest post. He then picked up Lillie from work and dropped the girls off at their friends. I think, but don’t wish to presume, that he took a detour, and bought himself a duster.

That’s a sentence I never thought I would utter.

I wasn’t entirely certain he knew what it was. I mean no-one in this house dusts. We have spider webs which have outlived their original spider owners and now have 3rd generation squatters living in them.

My assumption proved correct as he began sword fighting me. With a fluffy duster. Hmmm. Yes, darling. I am suitably afraid. You are in deed very manly:

When he began stroking it I was particularly concerned:

But it was when he mounted it and expected it to take off that I came to the sudden realisation that my husband may have lost it…

I went to grab something from our bedroom (I forget what – a straight jacket, perhaps?). I was gone seconds, but Gary had obviously read the instructions on the duster, and realising that it was neither a sword nor a witch’s broom, and that stroking one as if it were a pet was not a good look, he had begun sweeping the cobwebs off the ceiling:

Another sentence I never thought would come out of my mouth.

In that short few minutes he had never looked more attractive to me.

Last but not least, the girls have been digging in our garden for pottery shards. Two hundred years ago, our cottage and mum’s next door, were the workers’ cottages for the pottery works in our back garden. If we dig deep enough we can find pieces of old pottery, which of course the children love. They have been collecting for the last few weeks and brought in their collection today to show us all:

That’s it for today. I need to go prepare for my lovely in laws.